


Guilty

by Sarunamii



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Hurt Dean Winchester, M/M, Post-Purgatory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 04:04:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17237075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarunamii/pseuds/Sarunamii
Summary: Dean felt guilty as hell.  That was nothing new.  Dean always felt guilty.  He wasn’t fast enough, strong enough, brave enough, smart enough…whatever.  He should be able to do more than he did – saved more people – stopped more monsters.  But this choice he knew he’d feel guilty either way, whether he gave in or held strong.Dean is back from Purgatory, and he's not handling it so well.





	Guilty

Dean felt guilty as hell. That was nothing new. Dean always felt guilty. He wasn’t fast enough, strong enough, brave enough, smart enough…whatever. He should be able to do more than he did – saved more people – stopped more monsters. But this choice he knew he’d feel guilty either way, whether he gave in or held strong.

He stared down at the text message. “I miss you,” is all it said, and he knew who it was from. He’d been back from purgatory a few weeks now and was having trouble adjusting – realizing that life wasn’t one continuous fight the way it had been there. True his and Sammy’s relationship was the rockiest it had ever been, and there were still people to save and the trials to complete, but here there were the times of peace interspersed.

There was a big part of him that missed having someone else take the lead and know that they had his back, and Benny had always tried to make it feel good for him too. But the other big part of him hated to give up that control. He was Dean freaking Winchester not some sissy girl. As much as he claimed not to care about God and his angels, Dean still had his own morals to live up to. Sleeping with a monster was just plain wrong! Not to mention the fact that this was a male monster. And yet he still felt guilty refusing the vampire. 

In purgatory it had been partly survival that had lead him to bend his will to the other man. A surprisingly large portion of the monsters there respected Benny’s claim and left them alone. They still had plenty of fighting to do, but Dean was only human, and the only human, and even in purgatory he had still needed to sleep sometime. Benny had been kind and gentle (mostly) and it had been a good release of excess energy, but it still wasn’t something Dean wanted to continue now he was back in the land of the living.

From the handful of times he had talked to the vampire since they had comeback, Dean knew Benny was having a rough time adjusting also. He was always hungry and struggling not to give into his vampiric thirst to just drain the next person he ran across. Sex had always helped to ground him (or at least cover him with a lazy lethargy) and Sam would never have to know. Benny would make it enjoyable.

Dean caught himself reaching to reply with a “let’s meet up.” No, it was wrong! He bit his lip indecisively. Benny needed him and he owed the vampire so much. Dad would be ashamed of him. Quickly, before he could change his mind, Dean replied, “I’m sorry,” and dropped the phone down on the bed beside him. Steeling himself, he pushed up to his feet and wandered off in search of his brother. The phone was left behind on the bed so he wouldn’t see the pleading that was sure to come. He’d come back to read any other messages when he was feeling stronger – better able to resist. Until then a distraction would have to work.

* * * * *

He didn’t feel any better after spending the day with Sammy. Already short tempers were ready to blow and Dean was ready for some action – any kind of action. The more violent the better. He had never been a fan of the stillness of research and now was no better. If he was completely honest with himself, it hurt that Sam didn’t seem to want him and it made Benny’s invitation that much more tempting. His phone was back in his hand without him making a conscious decision to retrieve it. Benny hadn’t sent any more messages. Had Dean managed to ostracize him to? If only Cas had made it out of Purgatory with them. Another failure.

“Where are you?” Dean texted berating himself for his weakness even as he sent the message. He needed to know that someone wanted him – needed him.

The answer was almost immediate. It wasn’t far from the cabin the brothers were currently holed up in. Dean could tell Sam he was taking a small case and would be back in a day maybe two. Sam wouldn’t care any way. Maybe it would be better for Sam if he just stayed gone.

* * * * *

Surprisingly, Sam hadn’t been happy about Dean going off on his own case, but giving his older brother his customary “bitch” face he had relented with a put upon sigh. Despite receiving more resistance than expected from his younger brother, Dean was still disappointed it was so easy to get him to give in, but he went anyway with renewed guilt gnawing on his insides. Had Sam known he would have asked why Dean was even going if he felt so guilty about it. Dean would have explained that his friend needed him and after all they had been through together, Dean owed Benny. Then, of course, Sam would want to know who Benny was and doubtless that would have started another fight. But Sam didn’t know and Dean wasn’t telling.

So Dean left and met up with the vampire whose thirst was even worse than Dean had imagined. Now he really wished Sam had stopped him from going. Benny had been rougher than Dean remembered him ever being in Purgatory and he was lucky to still be alive. He did, however, need to stop the bleeding or he wouldn’t be alive much longer.

Sluggishly Dean raised a heavy hand to press against the open wound on his neck. Through the fog of pain he had the presence of mind to wonder where Benny had gone and how long he had been unconscious. It didn’t matter. With his other hand, Dean reached for his jacket, where it lay dropped haphazardly on the floor inches from his fingertips, but still too far away. 

“Oh, Brother,” Benny’s southern voice from behind him had Dean flinching despite himself. “I’m sorry. I went too long between feedings.” Dean grunted unintelligibly in reply as the other man gently rolled him over and lifted him on to the bed.

When he came to the next time, Dean was balled up under a thick comforter. The pain still throbbed, but it was down to a dull ache at least. He groaned as he pushed himself up to a sitting position. Someone, probably Benny, had redressed him in fresh clothes. Gratefully he looked over to the cheap motel chair where the vampire sat rustling through a magazine. “I forget how strong the hunger gets here,” Benny told him. “We’ll have to keep the feedings closer together. At least until I get adjusted to being back.”

Dean nodded, “yeah.” His voice was hoarse and it hurt to talk, but his throat hadn’t been completely ripped out. Kudos for that. “How long –” he cleared his throat and tried again, “how long was I out?”

“Only eight hours.”

Another nod. That was good. He had told Sam it was an easy hunt, but he expected it to take a couple of days at least. But how was he going to explain the injuries to his brother? Next time it would be harder to get away. But – Benny… If he didn’t come to the vampire and the hunger got too great, who else would suffer because the vampire couldn’t control himself? Who else would suffer because Dean couldn’t deal with a little pain and discomfort?

“The room is paid for up until the end of the week.” That meant he had two days to heal. 

Dean leaned back against the bead headboard. “Food?” he croaked out hopefully.

“Of course, Brother,” Benny answered with a smile. “Room service should be here soon.” The vampire stuck around until Dean was feeling strong enough to insist the other man hit the road. Only once he was gone did the older Winchester brother let out a sign of relief he didn’t know he was holding in. He was still tired and run down feeling, but Dean dragged himself out to the impala with a quick note sent to his brother, “Hunt over. On my way back.”

“New hunt,” Sammy replied shortly before directing Dean to meet him a few hours north.

Apparently he still looked terrible because Sam’s first words to him were, “What happened to you?”

“Ghost was a little more handsy than I was expecting,” Dean’s voice was still sore, but he no longer sounded like a dying frog at least. “You gonna tell me about this new hunt?”

Sam eyed him before shrugging and launching into the details. If Dean was moving more cautiously than normal it must have been due to the ghost throwing him around. It wouldn’t be the first time a ghost had tossed one of them aside like a rag doll.

* * * * *

The next time Benny called Dean and Sam were speeding down the highway, away from a false hunt – a haunting that turned out to be just a couple of kids pranking the town. Dean glanced at the caller ID, eyed Sam, and flipped it open. “Hello?”

“Dean,” the need in the vampire’s voice was clearly evident. “I’m so…” a pause and a swallowing sound, “I’m so…thirsty.”

“Sorry, dude, I think you got a wrong number,” Dean replied before he could say anything to tip his brother off. He flipped the phone shut and shrugged when Sam looked over at him questioningly. “Must have gotten a fake number from a girl.”

Sam smirked and the jibe Dean would have made had their roles been reversed hit a little too close to home. Pulling off at the next gas station, Dean announced it was time for a pit stop. Once he saw Sam disappear into the bathroom, he hit redial. It barely rang once. “Where are you?” Dean asked skipping all pleasantries.

Benny quickly supplied the name of the town and motel he was at. Doing a quick mental calculation, Dean told the other it would be a few hours. “Can you hold on that long?”

“Just drive fast, Brother.”

Now Dean just had to come up with an excuse for Sammy on why they were suddenly turning south towards Louisiana. 

“Mardi Gras is like six months away, Dean,” Sam rolled his eyes at his brother. That was one holiday he would have sworn his older brother had down.

Dean shrugged, “Close enough.” To add to the strangeness, Dean insisted on stopping for the night when the sky was barely darkening. “Could use the extra sleep…in a bed,” he countered when Sam offered to take over driving. And then once they got the room, Dean disappeared with a “going out, don’t wait up, Sammy,” thrown carelessly over his shoulder.

“So much for rest,” Sam muttered frustratedly. Maybe this was Dean still dealing with Purgatory (or refusing to deal – which was much more his older brother’s M.O.). Sighing, Sam resigned himself to an evening alone. He called for takeout Chinese and flipped the tv on.

When Dean did finally return he had more of a glassy eyed hurt look than his usual post-hook up haze. “Dude,” Sam exclaimed, “are you hungover already?” The clock numbers proclaimed it only midnight – still early for Dean to be back.

Dean glared and swatted his hands away, “Shut up.” He shrugged off his jacket and started for the bathroom, but Sam stopped him with a solid grip on his shoulder.

“You’ve got blood on your shirt.”

“What?” Dean reached up to feel at the fresh blood staining the collar of his shirt. He glanced back to his brother’s worried expression and offered a lecherous grin, “Girl was a firecracker…things got a little wild.”

Sam groaned and shoved his brother towards the bathroom before any more details could be shared. They didn’t need to share any information about each other's sex lives. If Dean liked it rough occasionally, he certainly didn’t want to know about it.

In the bathroom, relief warred with disappointment. He had to help Benny, right? He owed the vampire and he couldn’t let someone else get hurt, but he was still ashamed. If he was stronger or smarter he would find a better way to help the other man. But Dean also wanted Sam to stop him, to keep him from going back to the vampire, while at the same time dreading his little brother ever finding out. He didn’t want to see the disgust when Sam realized he was justified in his decision to not search for Dean, but instead to leave him to his deserved fate in Purgatory. But if Sam had searched for him, maybe he could have found him and pulled him back before Dean had ever met Benny.

Two months wasn’t a long enough time to figure out how to pull someone from Purgatory, Dean admitted to himself. And after that time Benny had already been a firm travelling companion. Pushing the depressing thoughts aside, Dean cleaned himself up and changed into some sweat pants for bed. If Sammy thought anything about his older brother’s sudden increase in modesty, he kept it to himself as Dean dropped himself into the empty bed. He slept soundly – practically dead to the world.

The next morning he caught a glimpse of Benny peering out the window of the room a few doors down as he and Sam loaded up. He let Sam drive, much to the younger man’s surprise and drifted, watching the scenery breeze past. Dean had made sure to eat a big breakfast to make up for the blood loss from the night before and now was content to nap.

The trip to New Orleans was kept short, but it was good to take a break. The brothers could finally feel some of the tension between them easing. It ended with them heading back out towards another potential hunt. Kevin had called with the little progress he had made towards deciphering the demon tablet and wanted them to look into finding his mother.

* * * * *

“He looks familiar,” Sam murmured thoughtfully gazing across the diner.

Dean turned in his seat, “Who?” He didn’t see anyone familiar, and no one was looking back at them with any recognition either. Maybe it was someone Sam had met without him.

“Outside, across the street there was a guy I could swear I saw at our last stop and in New Orleans before that.”

Scoffing, Dean turned back to his burger, “What – you think we’re being followed?” He took a large mouthful and almost moaned in pleasure. Then, with a full mouth added, “Besides, who’d be following us that long that wouldn’t have already struck by now.”

Sam sighed at him, but let the matter drop. Dean did have a point after all.

The next time Benny called for a fix, he was only five minutes away. It was after that time Sam started voicing his concern, “Dude! What’s going on with you?”

Dean had just handed Sam the keys to the impala…again. “What? I’m tired. I think I’m coming down with a cold.”

“You’ve been coming down with something ever since you’ve been back,” Sam said pointedly.

Dean sputtered, “I’ve got to…to readjust…build back up – shut up and drive!” The look he received back was unimpressed, but Sam slipped into the driver’s seat without any more audible protests. Dean had never been one to admit to weaknesses of any kind, and that definitely included the common cold. The last time his older brother had been sick back in high school he had continued to adamantly deny it even in between hacking coughs and violent sneezes. He had only resigned himself to a couple of days in bed and soup because their dad had ordered him to.

Another late night, “What’s with all your latest hookups leaving blood and scratches on you?”

“Alright, ‘Mom,’” Dean rolled his eyes as he disappeared into the bathroom.

“This isn’t passing,” Sam started a few days later when Dean suddenly felt weak in the knees. “Maybe we should take you to a doctor.”  
Dean shook his head trying to hide how weak he still felt, “What? No, I’m fine.” Forcibly he relaxed his death grip on the back of the chair he was using to hold himself up. Sam did have a point. He wasn’t recovering as quickly between the feedings and Benny’s thirst didn’t seem to be lessening any, but instead increasing. It was only luck (Dean wasn’t sure yet if it was good or bad luck) that kept Sam from really noticing the vampire tail they had picked up.

“No you’re not,” Sam countered eying his brother critically. “Are you sure you didn’t pick up a parasite or something in Purgatory?”

Talk about bad timing. Right at that moment Dean’s phone chirped from the bedside table where he’d forgotten it. Sam was closer, so he snatched it up before Dean could even move. “Who’s ‘B’?”

“Sam –” Dean started part exasperated, part fearful of the truth coming out.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed the secret phone calls and texts! Are you sure she’s not a succubus or something?”

Dean tried again, “Sammy –”

“I don’t want to – no I can’t watch you just waste away like you are,” Sam’s combative attitude suddenly dwindled to nothing. “I need you, Dean.”

Dean dropped his outstretch hand. He understood Sammy’s plea. Rather than let his brother die, he had sold his soul. “His name is Benny,” the words escaped his mouth before he even made the conscious decision to spill his guts to his brother. In any other situation the younger man’s reaction would have been comical. Sam’s jaw dropped and his eyes widened to the size of saucers. Dean felt his cheeks burning in shame. He turned away, hanging his head as he dropped wearily into the chair, “He showed me the way out of Purgatory.”

“What –” Sam struggled to compose himself, fists clenched tightly around the phone. “What is he?”

Risking a glance at his brother’s face, Dean reluctantly answered, “He’s a vampire.”

“He’s been feeding off of you,” it was more a statement than a question through clenched teeth.

Dean shrugged, “Better me than anyone else.”

“What were you thinking?!” the dam exploded. “He’s a vampire! We hunt vampires!”

“Not Benny!” Dean insisted back stubbornly. “He had my back in Purgatory. He showed me the way out! If it wasn’t for him I’d still be there!”

“Dude! He used you to get out! He’s still using you! And you – you’re letting him!”

Shaking his head, Dean stayed stubborn, “No, it’s not like that! In Purgatory I still had to sleep! They didn’t! Benny – well, Benny kept them away when I was…weak.” He suddenly looked as if he’d said more than he meant – given away more than he wanted to. He looked defeated.

“Dean,” it was almost a sigh. The fight went out of Sam and he dropped down into the chair opposite his brother. There was silence. Just the two brothers with everything they didn’t want to say or couldn’t say to each other settling uncomfortably between them. Taking a breath, Sam opened his mouth to talk.

Dean cut him off, “I don’t want to talk about it. He wouldn’t be the first monster we let live. He’s not hurting anyone.” And at Sam’s pointed look, added, “…else.”

“That’s it though, Dean. He’s hurting you! He’s killing you and I won’t let him!” Sam emphasized his last five words before dropping Dean’s phone back into his older brother’s lap. “Answer him if you must, but you and Dad taught me how to tail and I will follow you and I will kill him. That’s a promise.”

“Sammy –” Dean pleaded, but his brother wasn’t budging. Instead he rose and purposely started pulling out everything he would need for a vampire hunt. Giving it up as a lost argument, Dean read the text. “Need you,” was all it said and Dean knew he wasn’t far away. He knew he should listen to his younger brother. Sam, after all, wasn’t saying anything he hadn’t said to himself before. He knew his judgment was clouded, but he owed Benny, right? Not all vampires were evil. Lenore had proved that. Benny wasn’t hurting anyone besides him and it was only what he knew he deserved. 

But what if Sam was right and he was dying – then what? Who would the vampire hurt after Dean died? How many would he hurt or kill when the cravings grew too strong? “I’ll take him out with me when he kills me,” Dean wasn’t even aware he had said the words out loud until Sam reacted. The younger Winchester froze where he had a machete half drawn as he checked the blade. His stormy expression rose to lock on to Dean.

Instead of spewing out the myriad of insults that came to mind, Sam clenched his teeth together and glared down at the blade in his hands. “Why are you so determined to make yourself a martyr?” he finally growled out.

“What – ? I’m not –”

“Yes you are!” Sam was seething. Why couldn’t his brother see that Sam needed his older brother as much as Dean needed him? It had been a mistake to not look for him. Sam knew that and now Dean was even more broken than he had ever been. How could Sam possibly hope to make up for that? He still prayed to God, despite having met several angels that left much to be desired, but it felt like no one was listening. Why did God create this world and the people in it just to ignore them when they needed him?

Typical Dean behavior, the older brother shrugged it off, “Whatever. I’m going out for a drink.”

Sam snorted derisively at him, but didn’t stop Dean from dragging himself out the motel door towards the closest bar. He wouldn’t – couldn’t deal with any of this now, so Dean was determined to drown any the issue until no one else remembered it either.

Dean never made it to the bar. Instead, the door to the room just next to theirs swung open right as he was passing it. “Dean,” Benny beckoned him in, the thirst evident in his voice.

Hesitating, Dean tried to resist, “Benny, look, man, I –”

The vampire ignored his protests and reached out clamping an iron grip on his wrist. Dean’s weakened state added to the vampire’s inhuman strength left little surprise of the outcome. Benny dragged Dean into the dark room and firmly locked the door behind him, even hanging the “do not disturb” sign on the door handle.

Once deposited on the bed, Dean tried again, “Look, man, I can’t help you anymore. I don’t have enough left to give.”

“Need you,” Benny breathed not paying any attention to the other man’s words as he pressed his nose into Dean’s neck. His hands ran up under the t-shirt and over the firm muscles of Dean’s torso. He wasn’t going to be satisfied with a small drink. Not this time.

Dean pushed weakly at the roaming hands and the other body that was far too close. “Stop!” Instead he was shoved back against the bed as his shirt was ripped off. Desperate and panicky, he fought back, getting a few good punches in, but as the teeth clamped down on his neck, Dean could feel what little strength he had left seeping away. He was just starting to sink into the darkness when he heard the door get kicked in.

“Dean!” Sammy yelled as Benny tore away from his prey, teeth tearing at the tender flesh. This was definitely Benny the monster, not Dean’s friend and protector.

Pressing a hand to his injured throat, Dean struggled to sit up and focus on the room before him. Sam’s vicious attack had turned defensive as the vampire used all his conniving skills to get the upper hand. “Sammy!” Dean’s hoarse shout was hardly more than a whisper as he watched the machete get knocked from his brother’s hands. A powerful back hand sent Sam flying back into the ruins of the door.

The surprise slash from the knife wasn’t enough to sever the vampire’s head from the rest of him, but it was enough to throw him off balance. Sam rolled away, jumping to his feet, almost in one fluid motion, as Dean clumsily dodged a blow to the face. Ducking like he did, Dean found himself close enough to Sam for his brother to reach out and drag him out the door away from the rampaging vampire.

With a roar Benny launched himself after them, tackling Sam roughly to the ground. He slammed his face into the pavement once, twice, three times as Dean scrambled for his dropped knife. “Drop it, brother,” Benny’s bloody grin hung threateningly over Sam’s twisted neck. “Or I’ll rip his throat out.”

“It’ll be the last thing you ever do,” Dean promised darkly gritting his teeth together. His grip tightened on the knife as Sam blinked at the blood dripping past his eyes pushing the throbbing pain aside. Guilt threatened to choke him as Dean saw his own shame threatening to destroy his brother instead of him. Sammy didn’t deserve to be punished for Dean’s failures – for Dean’s mistakes.

“Drop it, brother,” Benny repeated pulling Sam’s head further to the side earning a pained whimper from the younger brother. The vampire’s teeth lengthened, points still red from Dean’s own blood.

“Okay, okay,” relenting Dean flipped the knife around, handle towards the vampire and his hands held out in surrender. “Just – let Sam go. Please.”

Sam struggled vainly, crying out, “No – Dean!”

Benny gave his hair a rough wrench cutting off any further protests.

‘Please,’ Dean didn’t know who he was praying to, but he found himself pleading silently to whoever may be listening for help. Slowly he lowered the knife to the ground and left it sitting by his knees.

“Let’s take this inside,” the vampire ordered, motioning for Dean to proceed him into the motel. “Your room, since Sam here kicked in my door,” Benny instructed as the human struggled to his feet. The door was still standing open from Sam’s previous rush outside on hearing his older brother’s cries through the thin walls. The hunter had been debating making a stop for dead man’s blood before following Dean to the bar when the sounds made his decision for him.

Dean pushed the door open the rest of the way and sat down on the edge of the closest bed as ordered. Benny slid past him with Sam still in his grasp and secured the younger Winchester into the small bathroom. The dresser was then pulled in front of the bathroom door as a secondary lock. Then, once the outside door was also locked and chained, Benny turned to the exhausted and angry Dean. “You behave yourself, and little brother get to keep breathing.”

About that time the sirens of approaching police vehicles broke the night air. Someone must have witnessed their fight out in the parking lot. Cursing, the vampire jerked Dean to his feet and peered out through the dingy blinds. There was no back way out. They would have to make it out past the cops, and Dean wasn’t about to let himself get dragged away like some damsel in distress!

“I guess I’m just getting fast food,” Benny grumbled. Dean knew from experience that the vampire liked to take his time and really relish his food, and that always included sex while he drank. Weighing his options, Dean considered his choices. If he let the vampire drink, he’d likely be too weak to fight, but perhaps Benny would get his fill and disappear into the night and leave without hurting anyone else.

He was given little chance to decide before he collided painfully with the wall and sharp teeth latched on to his already bleeding throat. “Son of a –” Dean growled out struggling instinctively. Darkness crept in around the edges of his vision and he was only vaguely aware of the shouts just outside the door near him and the echoing shouts and bangs coming from the bathroom. He dropped bonelessly to the floor when the punishing grip released him. The last thing Dean heard was the door crashing open and then he faded into blissful unconsciousness.

* * * * *

Beep…beep…beep… The steady beeping was the first thing to break through the cocoon of silence to his awareness and Dean found himself blinking up at a sterile white ceiling. There was the soft murmuring of voices and movement from the hall as doctors, nurses, and other patients passed by. Dean turned his head towards the more familiar rumble closer by on his opposite side. Sammy stood just within arm’s reach talking quietly with the doctor. There was a clean bandage taped over his forehead on the right side where his head had previously met forcibly with the pavement.

“…S – am…” Dean’s voice croaked, throat too dry to work properly.

His younger brother immediately turned to him, “I’m here, Dean.”

Dean blinked at him and tried to wet his lips vainly. “Benny…?” he asked still not entirely sure if he wanted the vampire to have escaped or be dead.

The darkening of Sam’s expression answered even before Sam’s words, “He got away.”

Dean simply nodded as the doctor stepped in to ask his multitude of questions about Dean’s health and then explained the treatment to Sam when the older brother obviously quit listening. It wasn’t his first time in the hospital and, unfortunately, it probably wouldn’t be his last. That didn’t make him like it any more, or be any happier stuck there.

Much to the doctor’s disapproval the first question Dean asked him was when he could get out. Once the doctor finished his lecture Dean asked again, “So…when can I get out of here?”

The doctor looked even less amused, but gave the short answer as Sam’s glare told his brother to behave. Later, when the police stopped by for his statement, Dean begrudgingly gave it. On Sam’s insistence, he kept the story as close to the truth as possible, just leaving out anything supernatural.

“One of the witnesses, as well as one of the responding officers, claim this guy had sharp teeth – like an animal,” the officer stated waiting for Dean’s reaction.

“Yeah,” Dean grumbled, “Psycho had them filed down like fangs…thinks he’s some sort of vampire or something.”

The officer looked over his notes, a little skeptically, “And he drank your blood?” Dean could see the man sizing him up obviously wondering how he had ‘let’ himself get taken down. Dean clearly wasn’t a light weight.

“Look, officer,” Sam interjected when he could see Dean bristling under the perceived insult. “My brother had been sick, and he thought Benny was his friend. He didn’t think he had to defend himself from a friend.” If for no other reason than the 6’ 4” wall of muscle barely containing itself from getting in his face, the officer backed off. The older Winchester was unwilling to add much more to the conversation and the police took their notes and left.

“We’ve got to stop him from hurting someone else,” Dean admitted once they were alone.

Sam nodded, “We will.”

When they finally released Dean from the hospital, the brother’s immediately left town to meet up with some other hunters that Sam had somehow convinced to work with them to take out the rogue vampire. Despite his brother’s unhappy protests it was agreed that Dean would be the bait for their trap. Dean, for his part, was trying to ignore his doubts and the small voice in his head that reminded him how Benny had helped him in Purgatory and protected him from the other monsters. But Benny had already proved himself dangerously out of control. ‘But only because I resisted and Sammy got between us,’ the guilty voice in his head reminded Dean. He knew he couldn’t bring these doubts up to Sam or the other hunters, but they still plagued him.

Dean was almost surprised to receive another text from the vampire. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You hurt Sammy,” Dean replied.

“I’m sorry, Brother. The thirst was too much.” After another moment added, “If you stay close I can keep it under control.”

Benny had a point. Dean was tempted to give in, but then he thought of what Sam’s reaction would be. He would either, somehow manage to kill the vampire, or, more likely, would end up dead himself. So Dean steeled his resolve and took the phone to his brother and the other hunters. The knowing look Dave always gave him, made Dean uncomfortable, as if the other man knew there was more to the story than just the bloodletting Dean was letting Sam share with them. So he did his best to ignore the older man as the older Winchester brother dropped his phone into his younger brother’s hands. “He’s hungry,” was all he said.

“Bastard,” Sam muttered under his breath reading the message.

Sal (who names their son Sal?) peered over Sam’s shoulder exclaiming, “Let’s bait the trap then.” His eagerness had Dean even more on edge. He was a little too happy to be going vampire hunting. There was no way this could go well.

Sending a quick affirmative reply, Sam stood grabbing his machete and dead man’s blood soaked bullets. Sal was already out the door as Dave followed at a more sedate pace. Their third partner, Karen, already had the location staked out and prepped. She was some relation to Dave apparently and very skittish around strangers. Dean wasn’t sure she could speak, but Dave assured them that she was more than capable of doing the job. So while Dean headed towards the selected meeting spot, an isolated motel that should have been closed down years ago, the others joined Karen to wait.

Hours later Dean glanced impatiently at his phone for about the hundredth time. Benny was certainly taking his time in showing up. Did he smell the trap and change him mind? The hunter had to resist the urge to call and find out. He’d always let the vampire initiate contact before and it would look even more suspicious if he seemed over eager. 

Just when Dean was ready to give up his phone chirped with a new incoming message. It was from Sam, “Looks like a bust.” It was a more casual response then he expected from his brother, but he merely shrugged and rolled to his feet. Glancing at the time, Dean agreed with the assessment. The vampire wasn’t going to show. So he left the room and headed towards the corner where he’d left the impala parked. Settling into the driver’s seat, Dean replied to his brother, “On my way back.”

The immediate ding from Sam’s phone was Dean’s only warning. A sharp blade pressed against his throat and a growled order to drop his phone out the window. Sam’s phone followed. “Drive north,” Benny ordered not releasing his grip in the slightest.

When Dean tried to talk the knife was pressed tighter and he could feel the blood well up under the sharp blade. The vampire sniffed beside his ear and licked his lips convulsively. Seeing no other choice, Dean obeyed. Until he knew how Benny had gotten Sam’s phone – until he knew Sammy was okay and out of harm’s way, Benny had the advantage.

An hour down the road the vampire had him pull over and stop the car. As soon as he threw the car into park the knife was replaced with a brutally efficient blow to the head. Dean was out.

* * * * *

“You didn’t actually expect me to fall for that trap, did you, Brother?” Benny asked when he saw Dean waking up.

Blinking and clearing his throat Dean responded inelegantly, “What –?” From the dim lighting and cement floor he assumed they were in a basement of some sort. His hands were cuffed together and a longer chain secured his ankle to the center beam. Dean didn’t feel any new wounds on his neck and didn’t feel the familiar weakness that accompanied recent blood loss. “You didn’t feed –” He cut himself off half afraid that reminding the vampire would end in that very thing happening.

“I already drank,” Benny smiled. “Your new ‘friends’ won’t be a problem anymore, Brother.”

“You son of a –” Dean cursed fighting his restraints. Days turned into weeks and Dean’s resolve to keep fighting waivered. If Sammy was dead, (he had to be, right?) then what was the point? Benny was the only soul he ever saw in that darkened basement, and the isolation was starting to wear on him. The vampire only kept Dean fed just enough to keep him alive and somehow was turning the painful bloodletting into a reward or treat. Dean was almost to the point of begging Benny to come down and drink his blood, if only so he wouldn’t be alone anymore. 

Dean knew he had to stay strong, but too many unanswered prayers later and Dean knew how weak he really was. On top of that, Benny had decided Dean had to earn everything, including clothes and light. At first Dean had stubbornly remained as naked as the day he was born, but the cold seeped in and he was ready to murder for even the smallest blanket.

* * * * *

At first Dean just stared at the angel, hungrily eyeing the trench coat from where he shivered on the floor. When he blinked at the apparition and it remained he lifted his heavy head and reached out a shaky hand, “Cas?” He immediately wanted to know what he needed to do to “earn” the trench coat even for just a few minutes.

“Dean,” the angel breathed compassionately kneeling down beside his human friend. “I’m sorry we took so long to find you.” And then he was wrapping the trench coat around Dean’s shoulders.

“D-d-didn’t earn it,” Dean stuttered through chattering teeth. Castiel shushed him as he removed the chains with a flick of his wrist. Pressing two fingers to his forehead, Castiel healed all of the man’s physical ailments. A flutter of feathers and the two of them were in an unfamiliar motel room.

“Dean!” Sam exclaimed enveloping his brother in a crushing bear hug.

The older Winchester stared. Now he was almost certain he was dreaming. “Sammy?” If he was, Dean would readily take it over reality. The vampire could have his body – suck him dry – as long as Dean could remain in this dream. “I – I thought you were dead!”

Sam grimaced, “I almost was. He took us by surprise and I ended up in a coma until Cas came and woke me up.”

“And Benny –?”

“He’s back in Purgatory with his new nest, where he belongs,” Cas assured him. Leading Dean over to the empty bed, the angel flipped back the sheets and tucked the hunter in like a child. “Get some sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning.” Uncharacteristically compliant, Dean did as he was told and as he slipped off into sleep he heard Cas to Sam, “I was able to heal him physically, but psychologically…” Whatever else was said after that faded away into the background.

It was almost unsettling to wake up warm and comfortable after months of nearly freezing. Dean was afraid it was all too good to be true, but when he pulled the blanket down from covering his head, Sammy was there drinking a cup of coffee with Cas. “Not a dream,” Dean muttered as he roused himself from the bed.

“Good morning, Dean,” Castiel greeted offering a steaming cup of coffee once he had dressed and joined them at the table. Sam had at least recovered his duffle bag. Maybe the impala, too.

Dean sipped his coffee before asking, “How’d you get out?”

“I managed to follow your trail to the portal, which apparently angels can travel through also.”

They were silent, lost in thought, until Dean broke it again with his musings, “So he lied from the very beginning. He had us following a false trail when actually you were behind us.” He paused taking a steadying breath as he stared down into his cooling drink. “You left me, man, and I couldn’t find you. I – I had to sleep still, but they didn’t. And then one of the times I was on the verge of collapse, Benny showed up and kept the rest away promising I could sleep. He told me about the portal and I insisted we find you first. At first, he agreed, but the trail was cold and he kept arguing that you didn’t want to be found and…and I started to believe it.”

Castiel looked Dean in the eye and apologized, “I’m sorry, Dean. I shouldn’t have left. I thought I was protecting you by leaving.”

“What made you change your mind?” Sam asked.

“I overheard some of the monsters talking about the human in Purgatory. And while I knew the leviathan were furious with me, that didn’t compare to being the only human in a world where everything preyed on humans.” Looking ashamed in his understated way, Cas continued, “I realized too late though. I am sorry, Dean.” 

After that, if Dean wore extra layers, even to bed, Sam and Cas said nothing about it. And when Dean would unconsciously start to offer his neck when he felt unsafe, they would remind him (without words when possible) that he didn’t have to “pay” them to have his back.

Months later, when drunk off his butt, Dean admitted to Sam, “Sometimes I miss him. It wasn’t always violent rape, mostly he made it feel good…I still feel guilty for letting him down.” 

It was the first confirmation the younger hunter received that there had been more than just blood taken from his brother. In that moment, if he had had the power, Sam would have resurrected the vampire just to kill him again – agonizingly slowly. Instead he guided a plastered Dean away from the alcohol to the blissful oblivion of bed. “Come on, Dean,” Sammy cajoled. “You’ve had enough for one night.” And when he told a sober Dan later that he didn’t think any less of him, while his brother shrugged off his words with his standard “no chick flick moments” Sam could see the added lightness to his steps.

Sam knew it was something Dean would never willingly discuss, (sober, at least) but any way he could lighten the load his older brother carried on his shoulders, he would. Having an angel as a friend didn’t hurt either. Whenever Dean started sinking into a depressive funk, Cas would appear and pull him back out of it with a casual squeeze on the shoulder or a word of friendship. Sam thanked God on numerous occasions for the angel’s attentiveness, and while there seemed to be no evidence of a higher power listening or even hearing, the brothers felt a sense of peace settling over them that neither could remember ever feeling before. They had hope. Hope for a better tomorrow – a brighter future.

Looking at their lives, Sam wouldn’t have expected them to take the course they did, and he wouldn’t have expected to be okay, maybe even happy, hunting. Kevin was on the verge of understanding the demon tablet and how to close the gates of Hell forever and Dean was healing. For the first time Sam believed that they were going to be okay.

“Hey, Samantha!” Dean’s gruff voice called him out of his reverie. “We’re taking the break you insisted on so come watch the movie before you miss your own break.”

Laughing fondly, Sam joined his brother and their friends in the bunker living room. Kevin and Garth were explaining some movie background trivia to a confused Castiel while Dean settled at the back of the room, still not comfortable with his back to anyone, even friends. If nothing else, they were getting there, one step closer to okay and happy.


End file.
